Before the Beginning

Around spring time 2008, my husband, Peter, and I decided that we wanted to finally try for a baby. On April 29th, 2009, after almost a year of trying and numerous negative pregnancy tests, we were PREGNANT! I couldn't even believe that there was a little life growing inside of me. I could not, if I tried, describe the feelings that I felt that day. The joy was overpowering, my heart literally felt like it was going to burst with happiness! Of course we rushed over to tell all of our parents, who naturally were thrilled! Grandpa Dave, Peter's father, was more, "You better make sure you two are prepared to take care of this baby," and "Peter, you really need to get a full time job." Where all Grandma Louise, Peter's mother, kept saying over and over again was, "We're gonna have a baby! We're gonna have a baby!"

(very first ultrasound - 6 weeks 1 day old)

My pregnancy was going normally, I felt surprisingly well for being in my first trimester. Our first ultrasound done at 6 weeks and our second ultrasound done at 9 weeks gestation, Caitlyn looked very normal. On the day of our 3rd ultrasound, I was 22 weeks pregnant, and we could not wait to find out if we were having a boy or girl. Right before we went to the doctor's office I asked my dad what he thought the baby's sex was going to be, he said, "As long as it's healthy, I don't care." Of course I wanted our baby to be healthy, but all that kept going through our mind was, boy or girl, girl or boy. The ultrasound started, and everything was looking great. Dr. Kreitlow couldn't tell what we were having so she moved on to look at other things and said that we could come back to it. After a little while, she stopped talking and looked at the screen, she printed out a picture and left the room. I had no idea what was going on. When she came back she said that she had set us up with an appointment to see a higher level doctor that could take a better look at our ultrasound. She said that there might be something wrong with the baby's abdomen, it could be gastroenteritis. I left the office crying and not even caring anymore if our little one was a boy or girl. We had to wait 2 very long days to see the specialists. Thursday finally rolled around and the tech started the ultrasound. Everything was looking great; I had hopes that what Dr. Kreitlow saw on her ultrasound was somehow a mistake. When Dr. Sholl came into the room I asked how everything looked, "Well, it looks like your baby has a swollen leg." Okay, well at least her intestines weren't on the outside of her stomach, so that was a relief. He looked and looked, and couldn't tell me what exactly was wrong with her. We sat there waiting for him to come back in the room with an answer. He came back, but with no answer. He said it could be any number of things, including cancer. Wow, she could be dying before she even had a chance to live, how horrid! Again, we left the office with no more information than when we showed up, other than the fact that we might lose our baby who we worked for so long to get. After being home for a little while, Dr. Sholl called us. He sounded rather sad, very quiet, and like he wasn't looking forward to talking to me. He told me that he spoke with a Geneticist and she told him that it looks like a Giant Lymphangioma. He emailed me a link to an article about a set of parents where this had happened to their un-born child, they, however, opted to end the pregnancy. I asked him if our baby was going to die, and all he said was, "It doesn't look good."

An appointment was made to see Dr. McPherson, the Geneticist, the very next day. I was so devastated by the news that I didn't know what to think. All I did was cry. I remember sitting in the chair, looking down and seeing my belly rolling all over the place. I kept feeling powerful kicks and jabs, and I just wanted her to stop, I didn't want to feel her anymore. With every movement, with every kick and nudge I grew more and more attached to her, and I couldn't stand feeling her when I knew that within a few days she might be gone. Friday came, and I decided I wanted to go and see a Priest. I didn't know how I was going to be able to handle it if the situation arose for me to decide whether or not to terminate the pregnancy, so I figured I could really use some guidance. My mother-in-law, sister-in-law, and Peter, came with me to talk to our wonderful Priest. I tearfully told him the horrible news we had received the day before. He listened very carefully, then slowly stood up from his chair, kneeled before me while I sat on the couch, placed his hand on my round belly and started to pray. I have honestly never in my life heard somebody pray the way he did that day. I could barely hear the whispering prayers, but as I closed my eyes the words floated to my ears and I silently started crying all over again. Minutes rolled by, and still he prayed for me, for our family, and for my unborn daughter. At one point I peeked through my eyes and saw tears rolling down everyone's cheeks. It was such a special moment, I knew I was placing my daughter entirely in God's hands. There was nothing I could do to fix her, I only had to trust that God would let us keep her and give her a chance at life. For so long he said prayer after prayer and never once had a loss of words. The last minute or so he started to thrust his hand forcefully, but gently, against my belly as if making sure each prayer would reach our baby. I have never before, and I don't think I will ever again, experience anything more pure and beautiful as I did that day, at that moment.

Our appointment time rolled around and we met with Dr. McPherson. She told us all about giant lymphangiomas and how there was nothing I, or Peter, did to cause this to happen...it's just one of those things. After sitting for a little over an hour asking questions and discussing possible outcomes, she asked us if we wanted to terminate our pregnancy, because if we did we would have to do it rather soon, because I was already 22 weeks pregnant, and if we did want to then they were going to have to set up an ethics meeting to determine whether, or not, we could. The baby wasn't going to suffer or be in pain, and this wasn't life threatening to either one of us...so NO, of course not. I didn't want to try for another baby, I didn't want another baby, I wanted THIS baby and I didn't care that she was going to come out with this defect, (for lack of a better term). I loved her and that's all that mattered.

(September 15th, 2009 - MRI of Caitlyn in my belly)

Over the course of the following months leading up to her birth, I had an MRI and countless ultrasounds done to monitor her and to monitor the growth affecting her body. The pregnancy itself, went mostly smooth...except for the fact that I was on the border of having gestational diabetes and towards the end of the pregnancy I had started to developed signs of Pre-eclampsia.

On the evening of December 2nd, 2009, Dr. Mascola who was my high risk OBGYN, called and told me that she wanted me to come to the birth center because she would like for me to be induced due to my Pre-eclampsia. We drove the hour and 40 minutes to the hospital, very anxious and excited to finally get this started. After arriving there, getting hooked up to the monitors and answers countless questions the OB doctor who was on call decided it would be best if we started with the Cervidil and at around 7:40 the next morning she broke my water and we started the Oxytocin, aka Pitocin. Everything was going great, I received my epidural, after having to have it inserted twice. At about 6pm I started feeling my contractions and I was starting to have horrible back labor. I went from 8cm to 10 cm in a matter of minutes, so around 6:30pm, the time the anesthesiologist got there, I was ready to push. I was pushing like a pro, but no matter how I pushed or what I did Caitlyn's head would not come out. Things got serious, very quickly. We went from a room of the doctor and a couple nurses, to a room FULL of people. When her head finally did decided to come out Dr. Sampson wasn't able to deliver her shoulders. A cart with blood was rolled in because I was losing so much blood, and the nurses were counting minutes because of how long she was stuck. He finally reached in and grabbed her right arm to bring it up and over her face and out, when he did that her right humerus broke, and she came flying out! I looked down and didn't see her, so I immediately thought the doctor dropped her on the floor. I came flying up in the bed screaming, "Where's my baby!?! What did you do with my baby!?!" After Peter threw me back into the bed, the doctor finally held her up so I could see her, I felt so relieved. But then when he wouldn't put Caitlyn on my chest and didn't give Peter the chance to cut her umbilical cord I started to worry again. She was immediately put in the warmer and numerous people were standing around trying to revive her. It took me a second to figure out what was happening and when I realized what they were doing, and I hadn't heard her cry yet, I started yelling at them, "What's wrong with her!?! Help her! What is it wrong!?!" Again, I came flying up out of the bed trying to get to her and a nurse immediately grabbed my shoulders and pushed me back down saying, "She is going to be fine, she is going to be just fine." After what seemed like forever, I FINALLY heard a little squeak of a cry, just a little peep and that made everything all worth going through.